here’s a moment, somewhere between checking into a quiet hostel in an unfamiliar city and sipping coffee on a sunlit terrace overlooking a street you can’t pronounce, when it hits you:
This is freedom.

I didn’t plan to fall in love with solo travel. It began as an escape a spontaneous flight booked during a restless night, the kind where your thoughts are louder than your surroundings. I needed something new. Something unscripted.

That first trip was Lisbon.

I landed with no guidebook, no itinerary, just a carry-on and a craving for clarity. Mornings were slow and sacred. I wandered through the winding maze of Alfama, camera in one hand, espresso in the other. Locals smiled without expectation. I smiled back, not realizing how deeply that simple connection would root itself in my soul.

The thing is, when you travel alone, the world opens up in ways it never does when you’re with others. You hear more. You feel more. You learn that silence in a new place doesn’t feel empty it feels full. Full of possibility, full of presence.

And once you taste that kind of aliveness, you never want to stop chasing it.

From Lisbon, I moved through Europe like a whisper on the wind Barcelona’s backstreets, where laughter spills out of wine bars; the Swiss Alps, where even solitude feels grand; Cappadocia, where I watched the sunrise from a hot air balloon and felt smaller and bigger all at once.

I started finding pieces of myself in places I’d never been. A version of me who could start a conversation in broken Italian. A version who could sleep on overnight trains, journal by candlelight, and find comfort in her own company.

Was it always easy? No.

There were missed trains, language barriers, moments of homesickness that crept in during quiet nights. But even those moments had beauty. They taught me patience, humility, and how to ask for help from complete strangers and receive it with grace.

What solo travel gave me wasn’t just adventure.
It gave me ownership of my time, my choices, my joy.
It taught me that I don’t have to wait for someone else to be ready.
I can go. I can live. I can see the world on my terms.

People often ask me when I’ll “settle down.”
But they don’t realize I already have.
I’ve settled into sunsets over Santorini, night markets in Chiang Mai, rainy mornings in Amsterdam, and beach fires in Lagos.
I’ve built a home out of experiences and it travels with me wherever I go.

So if you’re waiting for someone to travel with, don’t.
Be the reason you go.
You’ll be surprised how much life is waiting for you out there.

Because the truth is this:
Once you start traveling, you never wanna stop.